This is why I shouldn't be allowed to stay up this late. It's because I start doing half-assed translations of stuff, then posting them online as if they're good.
And you, I pray, stay chaste, blessed chaste,
sitting in the care of that old woman.
She tells you stories and puts the lantern down
to draw ou coiling thread from full staff;
grave pensive girls sit with you in a circle
as little by little they sleep and let their spindles fall.
Then thieflike let me come, with you all unawares.
I want to seem heaven-sent to you.
Then -- just as you are, long hair unbound and curling --
meet me, Delia, run to me on naked feet:
I pray that blazing Dawn
and Daystar bear this happening to me on roan horses,
and let it come to pass.